Kirigakure, central district, main meeting hall.
Mei Terumi was surrounded by maps, real-time reports, sensor ninja wearing strange devices connected to their heads that resembled modern torture machines, and the constant noise of discussions about counterattack plans. Quite honestly, she only wanted to turn around and leave to reunite with her future husband.
Becoming Mizukage had been a complete mistake.
But she needed to deliver one clean stab before leaving, or things would become far more difficult later on.
Besides, finding people willing to defect honestly and follow her to Kumo had not been easy at all. She had to kill many who refused before the cat got out of the bag.
Still, the Bloody Mist era had left many people fed up — people who genuinely wanted to start over without ceasing to be ninja.
"Mizukage-sama, the Seventh Outpost has fallen!" reported a chunin in charge of information from the northern border.
"So soon?!" shouted one of Kiri's council elders, the kind who held office solely thanks to the merits of his ancestors, his face flushed red. "That outpost is supplied and fortified well enough to stop any invasion for an entire week regardless of enemy numbers!" he yelled, spraying saliva over several intelligence documents. "How could they bypass the patrols and bring it down?!"
The chunin wanted to scream back at the old man, asking how he was supposed to know, but he professionally maintained a silence that clearly conveyed: keep talking, I don't owe you an answer.
At least, unlike the previous outposts, this one had managed to send a warning, okay?
The Seventh Outpost was anchored to a hard-to-access cliff overlooking a key trade and transit route. It was easy to defend and difficult to attack, especially since the only way to reach it was by following a specific path riddled with traps and narrow enough for only one person to ascend or descend at a time.
Everyone watched Terumi rub her temple with two fingers, and nobody found it strange. The Mizukage must have had a terrible headache from this entire situation!
"Furthermore, it has been far too long since the patrol led by Chojuro last updated us on their status," reported another ninja beside the first informant, whose expression was equally grim. "There is a high possibility that they became involved in a prolonged battle or…"
He did not dare voice the second possibility aloud.
"Enough!" Terumi interrupted while slamming her hand onto the table and standing up. "Chojuro is someone I personally tested to verify his strength. If he were truly in a critical situation, it would be impossible for him not to have found time to send us a warning scroll or signal."
Everyone exchanged glances and nodded seriously.
Chojuro might appear weak, lacking confidence, and his sense of fashion was terrible on every conceivable level, but when it came to fighting or reacting under pressure, there were few men in the entire village who could match him.
Besides, he was the wielder of one of the Seven Swords of the Mist. As the Mizukage said, there was no way he could fall so easily.
Forget sending a bird — even dispatching a clone to relay more detailed information would have been perfectly feasible.
"Have we received any updates from the Water Capital?" Terumi sat back down and looked toward the ninja responsible for those reports.
According to the agreed protocol, the reinforcements were supposed to send a preliminary assessment of the situation in the capital before rushing inside.
"We received a basic report," the ninja said, feeling enormous relief at finally having something useful to contribute, especially with every eye in the room suddenly fixed on him. "The state of the capital is terrible. The Daimyo's castle was burning, so there are signs that the Daimyo may have taken refuge in the underground bunker. The level of destruction in areas such as streets and buildings is extremely high because of the fires, and there are too many people looting and fighting, but… we still have not been able to identify the culprits," he finished quietly.
As for the civilians?
Irrelevant to Kiri. More would always be born eventually.
In this world, a kunai was worth more than the life of an ordinary person.
"We still cannot confirm whether Kumo is responsible?" Terumi pressed with carefully measured suspicion.
The people around her thought deeply about the matter.
"Mizukage-sama, with all due respect, that is unlikely!" declared an elderly woman sitting at the end of the table. Her gray hair was tied in a bun pinned together with senbon needles. She shook her head. "If this were Kumo, the size of the force required to cause such devastation in only a few days would have been noticed by our spies the moment it set foot in the Land of Water. Furthermore, Kumo has already deployed a number of ninja near the limits of their capabilities just to confront us." She opened her narrowed eyes slightly, revealing a cold glint. "I believe another culprit is responsible, and there is only one viable candidate: Konoha!"
The people present widened their eyes in sudden enlightenment.
Of course! It had to be Konoha!
They were the only ones capable of infiltrating from the west, possessed an intelligence network powerful enough to evade Kiri's patrols effectively, and could move enough personnel to inflict such destruction.
And on top of that, there were still people looting!
Without a doubt, this was Konoha's doing.
Perhaps they were imitating Suna so they could shift the blame later!
Could this be Danzo's work?
"Damn Konoha!" growled a fifty-year-old man with stiff green hair as he slammed his fist onto the table. "Are they taking advantage of our conflict with Kumo to bite off a piece of meat?"
And not just any piece — the country's capital, the juiciest and fattiest cut imaginable!
"But the numbers required for something like this…" a younger woman, barely thirty years old, spoke hesitantly, feeling that something about the situation did not entirely add up. "And would they really dare target the Daimyo?"
As high-ranking village officials, they understood the unspoken rules among the nobility.
"No, she's right, Councilor Kiretsu. Enough elite ninja with the capability to inflict this much fire-based destruction… I can only think of one clan from Konoha." He raised a finger, utterly convinced by his own flawless logic. "The Uchiha!"
An inherently evil clan!
"If it truly was the Uchiha, then that would indeed be possible," Terumi nodded solemnly, while inwardly delighted that the elders were constructing an entire absurd narrative before she had even guided them toward it. "The bad news is that if this really is the case, we may not only be facing Kumo — Konoha could be joining the fray as well."
An elderly man with gold-rimmed glasses pushed them up the bridge of his nose as light reflected dramatically off the lenses.
"According to my analysis, there is an eighty-four percent chance that this is the case," he declared while somehow producing a chart from nowhere.
The people beside him stared at him strangely.
They were in the middle of a war council coordinating troops across two fronts. When exactly had he found time to make that?
"But it is not as bad as it seems." He adjusted his glasses again while pulling out another chart. "Even if Konoha joins the conflict, they will not dare go too far. They border both Suna and Iwa. If they give those villages an opportunity to join the war, their own profits will plummet, and they would rather reduce their gains than allow the other villages to fish in troubled waters."
"They already assaulted the capital!" the previous elder snapped, pointing at the man with the charts. "Damn it, they may have even killed the Water Daimyo! For all we know, they could be looting the capital right now before retreating. What could we possibly do to them?"
They would walk away with shipments, mountains of money, and who knew how many valuable resources from a single raid while suffering almost no ninja casualties…
Everyone present could estimate the scale of the profits involved.
What kind of obscene gain was that?!
"Could it be that the Fire Daimyo and the Lightning Daimyo reached some sort of agreement we are unaware of?" another person suggested nervously, paranoia creeping into his voice. "If Konoha has gone this far, it cannot be acting alone. Someone must have given orders and granted approval…"
The implications of those words were enormous.
The room filled with suspicion and conspiracy theories.
Because everyone knew one thing: if the Land of Fire and the Land of Lightning had truly formed a secret alliance to handle the Land of Water, then their village was already counting down toward inevitable destruction.
"Assuming the possibility of a Fire/Lightning alliance, and adding the possibility that the Water Daimyo is already lost…" Terumi intervened at the perfect moment, carefully steering the suspicions in the direction she desired. "The question we must ask ourselves is: what do we do?"
Years of politics and personal interests began greasing the gears in the minds of those present as they reasoned through the situation step by step.
First, what did the Land of Lightning want?
Permanent control of the territory. They did not care about civilians. They wanted land, resources, and room to expand.
Then what would the Land of Fire gain from supporting such an objective?
Taxes, tariffs, tolls, payments, resources, bribes, gifts…
Would the Water Daimyo match their offer to keep the Land of Fire neutral?
No. Far too expensive. The war itself would cost ten times less.
Would the Water Daimyo raise the offer even further to form a Water/Fire alliance?
Even more impossible. The nation's economy would collapse on its own even if they limited themselves to defending like a turtle.
Conclusion: the Land of Lightning gains territory after the war, while the Land of Fire gains immediate and extraordinary income to boost its economy.
The Land of Fire profits in the short term with minimal investment — they are happy.
The Land of Lightning gains long-term benefits — they are happy.
The Land of Water ceases to exist.
And then… what becomes of Kirigakure?
The more they thought about it, the paler their faces became.
Ideally, Kiri would repel both fronts, restore a competent puppet Daimyo, and begin reconstruction. Difficult, but their status would remain intact.
If it were only Kumo, that scenario was feasible. They had been enemies for decades and understood each other well enough for their battles to remain relatively balanced.
But if Konoha also entered the conflict, deploying none other than the Uchiha clan…
Then the losses would be unevenly distributed. One side would bleed excessively while the other two only needed to lick their wounds briefly before resuming the attack.
The outcome became painfully obvious the longer the conflict dragged on: Kirigakure could either fight to the death and drag down as many enemies as possible with them, or the village would dissolve, everyone abandoning their ninja identities to hide or join other villages.
The first possibility was impossible. After the Bloody Mist era, even under Mei Terumi's recent leadership and charisma, Kirigakure did not possess anywhere near the level of unity required for such a fairy-tale scenario.
If they truly chose that path, the real result would be that the closer the enemy approached the village, the more people would desert spontaneously, leaving those who remained defenseless and hastening their deaths.
The second possibility was humiliating, a complete disgrace for those proud to belong to one of the Five Great Ninja Villages, but it also offered the highest chance of survival.
Any village would welcome them, though it would take years for them to properly integrate. No, more accurately, they themselves would never truly integrate. That task would fall upon the children born within those villages.
Everyone slowly turned to look at their Mizukage.
If the worst truly came to pass, they needed someone willing to shoulder the burden and historical infamy of making that decision…
Terumi inhaled deeply and put on the expression of a martyr about to throw herself into the flames.
"If — and I truly mean only if — the situation reaches the point where continued fighting serves no purpose and would only cause more deaths and losses," she declared solemnly before everyone present, "I will do whatever is necessary to ensure the survival of as many people as possible!"
People secretly sighed in relief, while many were so moved they nearly cried, feeling guilty for pushing their Mizukage into the fire.
In the end, perhaps it had been wise not to send marriage proposals in the past. Who knew what price the Mizukage herself might have to pay to guarantee the survival of their clans?
Terumi could practically hear their selfish thoughts and had to restrain herself from slapping them for their hypocrisy.
Sacrifice?
She was going to "sacrifice" herself as many times as possible the moment this entire affair was finally over!